


dave and karkat are college roommates and that's literally it that's the whole fic

by elliptical



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst and Humor, Collegestuck, Fluff, Humanstuck, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4067494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliptical/pseuds/elliptical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider and Karkat Vantas spend their first year of college as roommates, making a competition out of getting on each other's nerves and thanking every god in existence that they understand each other's neuroses.  And maybe making out a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting to Know Your Roommate: Serial Killer Edition

**Author's Note:**

> this is as self indulgent as is humanly possible i hate myself  
> hopefully tooth-rotting davekats are good for the soul

\--carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] on 7/15/2014 at 5:27 PM--  
CG: HELLO  
CG: DAVE STRIDER.  
CG: IT IS I, THE NIGHTMARE OF YOUR DREAMS, THE WORST OF YOUR POTENTIAL MATCHES, THE PINNACLE OF EVERYTHING YOU ARE GOING TO HATE ABOUT COLLEGE. FEAST YOUR EYES ON MY TEXT AND KNOW THAT THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF YOUR DOOM, I AM HERE TO BE THE ROOMMATE YOU ALYWAYS DREADED AND SIMLUTANEOUSLY LONGED FOR. WHEN YOU ARE OLD AND GRAY YOU WILL TELL WHATEVER FAMILY OR FRIENDS STILL CLING TO YOUR VISAGE ABOUT THE HORRORS YOU EXPERIENCED FIRSTHAND ROOMING WITH A SERIAL KILLER PROBABLY  
TG: are you ok  
CG: WELL I'M NOT A SERIAL KILLER YET BUT FROM WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT THE PRESSURE OF COLLEGE I HAVE GREAT FAITH IN THAT THAT'S WHERE I'M GOIGN  
CG: HI.  
TG: all right is it acceptable to assume this is indeed karkat vantas in the virtual flesh or has some other guy decided to be my roommate and send me this incomprehensible babbling via decoded ones and zeros in pchum  
CG: OH.  
CG: YEAH I FORGOT TO SAY THAT.  
CG: IT IS I, KARKAT VANTAS, THE NIGHTMARE OF YOUR DREAMS, ETC, I'M NOT TYPING IT AGAIN.  
TG: you know you could have just used copy and paste  
TG: not that that makes any difference in how equally pointless both actions are im just saying  
CG: YOU KNOW WAHT JUST.  
CG: SHUT UP YOUR BUTT FOR TWO SECONDS.  
TG: are you drunk  
CG: NO JUST. SHHH.  
TG: are you high  
CG: I JUST HAD SURGERY I'M ON PAINKILLERS NOW SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, LISSTEN TO MY IMPORTANT WORDS.  
CG: I AM KARKAT I AM YOUR ROOMMATE.  
TG: nightmare of my dreams got it  
TG: whatever that bullshit actually means  
TG: isnt it usually one or the other with the terminology i mean youre either having a nightmare or youre having a dream  
TG: maybe youre the nightmares that stalk my subconscious or the insidious terrors that slide into a good dream to turn it into a living horror film  
TG: schrodingers movie stalker  
TG: is it a nightmare or a dream you cant tell until you open the box  
CG: PLEASE STOP TYPING WORDS.  
TG: what is with the capslock  
CG: I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I AM HERE, AND ALSO LOUD, I AM GIVING YOU A TASTE OF WHAT TO EXPECT. EXCEPT IT'S NOT THAT ACCURATE BECAUSE WHEN I'M NOT LAMBASTED WITH DRUGS I AM GODDAMN ELOQUENT AND WOULD BE WRITING A FIVE PARAGRAPH ESSAY ON WHY EVERYTHING YOU'RE SAYING RIGHT NOW IS AWFUL.  
CG: BUT FOR NOW I JUST HAVE A HEADACHE AND ALL I CAN THINK IS YEAH THAT WAS A PRETTY DUMB THING FOR ME TO SAY, BUT IT SOUNDED GOOD IN MY HEAD BEFORE I TYPED IT.  
TG: happens to the best of us  
TG: listen dude i want to have a bunch of convos before we actually move in together but maybe you should wait until a time that is pointedly not now  
TG: by which i mean a time when you do indeed have all of your faculties at your disposal  
CG: NO NO NO. SEE THE BEAUTY OF THIS IS THAT I KNOW HOW HARD I'M GOING TO REGRET THIS LATER BUT I'VE DECIDED TO LEAVE THE REGRET FOR MY FUTURE SELF TO DEAL WITH.  
TG: your future self being  
TG: you  
TG: yes youre right this makes total sense in every way  
CG: I'M NOT HIM YET I DON'T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT IT.  
TG: i am pretty sure that is not how temporal shenanigans work at all but ok whatever  
TG: nice to meet you karkat vantas im dave strider your future roommate  
TG: i wasnt planning to put effort into making your life hell but if youre so determined to be my future nightmare i just might have to find it in me  
TG: i cannot be showed up as the worst possible person on the planet what the fuck that trophy is mine  
CG: YES SEE THIS IS GOOD WE'RE GOING TO GET ALONG FINE ASIDE FROM THAT I'LL PROBABLY HATE YOU.  
TG: i appreciate the vote of confidence  
CG: THREE THINGS.  
CG: ACTUALLY FOUR.  
CG: FIRST I HATE ALMOST EVERYONE ON PRINCIPLE BUT IF I RESPECT YOU I'LL BE UP FRONT ABOUT THE HATING INSTEAD OF BLOGGING ABOUT YOU BEHIND YOUR BACK.  
TG: thats a totally solid and not unhealthy philosophy to have of the world i cannot wait to share space with your charming personality  
TG: whats your blog im gonna follow it  
CG: I'MMM NOT DONE SHHHHHHHUT UP.  
TG: holy shit you are baked  
CG: NO MORE WORDS.  
CG: FOR YOU NOT FOR ME I HAVE A LOT MORE WORDS.  
CG: SECOND I AM VERY BROWN AS IN MEXICAN AND INDIAN AS IN LEAVE RACISM AT THE DOORSTEP PLEASE.  
TG: yes i have seen photos of you on account of us having each others facebooks  
CG: WAIT. FUCK YOU'RE RIGHT.  
CG: I'M STILL PUTTING IT OUT THERE THIS IS THE NORMAL INTRODUCTION SPEECH DON'T BE A DOUCHE.  
CG: THIRD I'M VERY TRANSGENDER DO A FUCKING GOOGLE SEARCH DON'T ASK ME ABOUT MY GENITALS I'M A GUY THANKS BYE.  
CG: FOURTH I GET UPPITY ABOUT THOSE LAST TWO THINGS SO FIND SOME OTHER PLACE TO BE A RAGING DOUCHESNAKE.  
TG: are there like degrees of transgender now  
TG: like you dove right into the deep end and then you have kids swimming around at the shallow end or dipping their toes in being just a little bit trans instead of very  
CG: HA HA CUTE.  
CG: NO THERE AREN'T FUCKING DEGREES OF BEING TRANS I AM TRYING TO MAKE A POINT AS SOON AS WE MEET UP IRL I'M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS.  
TG: hahaha oh my god chill  
TG: im albino filipino and also trans im so glad we dont need to do the cis spiel song and dance this is actually the best thing to happen to me about the entire college experience and im not in college yet  
CG: OH.  
CG: OH, THANK GOD.  
CG: I ASKED FOR A TRANS ROOMMATE BUT I DIDN'T THINK THEY'D ACTUALLY BOTHER I DON'T KNOW ANYONE GOING TO THIS SCHOOL AND THERE WASN'T ANYTHING ON YOUR FACEBOOK SO I WASN'T SURE.  
TG: well now you know me  
TG: i try not to make a big production out of it so if you could uh  
TG: not blog about it or announce it to everyone that would be awesome  
CG: NO NO THAT'S FINE BY ME I'D APPRECIATE IT IF YOU DID NOT DO THAT THING FOR ME ALSO.   
CG: FUCK I MEAN  
CG: DO DO THAT THING?  
CG: DON'T OUT ME.  
TG: i figured that was what you meant yeah  
CG: I DIDDDN'T GO TO ALL THE TROUBLE OF HAVING TOP SURGERY THE SUMMER BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS TO CONTINUE BEING A WALKING ENCYCLOPEDIA FOR PEOPLE WHO CAN JUST USE GOOGLE. HOLY FUCK.  
TG: its cool i feel it  
TG: is that why youre so baked  
TG: bc top surgery  
CG: I'LL BE OFF PAINKILLERS LIKE  
CG: SOON.  
CG: STAND BY FOR REGRET FROM FUTURE ME.  
CG: SINCE I DON'T HAVE TO YELL AT YOU YET I THINK I'M GOING TO TAKE A NAP.  
TG: that sounds like a good idea buddy  
TG: sweet dreams  
\--carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] on 7/15/2014 at 6:13 PM--

~0~

\--carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] on 7/22/2014 at 10:17 PM--  
CG: Oh my fuck.  
CG: Can we literally just delete that entire log from existence and our respective memories and pretend it didn't happen, ever.  
TG: are you telling me you didnt want your first impression to be a lot of typoed capslock gray text and vehemence  
TG: what guy wouldnt want to present himself that way to the dude hes going to be rooming with for the next year  
CG: Oh, my fuck.  
CG: We're restarting the introductions in a way that's not going to make me want to crawl into a dank hole for the rest of my natural lifespan, ok?  
CG: Hi, I'm Karkat Vantas, I am a reasonable person as long as you don't push my buttons.  
CG: Or as long as I don't start thinking about things that piss me off.  
CG: Which is almost always.  
TG: hello karkat vantas im dave strider  
TG: im a psychic whos sensing a lot of mysterious facets of your personality  
TG: drifting into focus like a chosen one awaiting a prophecy  
TG: im sensing youre...  
TG: the nightmare of my dreams?  
CG: Oh. My. Fuck.  
CG: I am going to murder you.  
TG: am i going to be your first serial killer victim  
CG: I am going to go down in fucking history as the Douchebag Killer, attracted only to assholes who make it their life mission to wear Adidas sandals and snapbacks. Two weeks into the start of the semester, you'll mysteriously vanish, leaving behind a trail of clues that lead into nowhere. I'll have disappeared just as surely as you, while the police try to figure out whether they're looking into a murder or a kidnapping or two guys who disappeared because they didn't want to be found. Joke's on them, I'm running off on my own. The heady feel of spilling blood got to me the first time, I've unleashed my inner beast. I cross state borders, choosing my victims carefully, and it takes the police twenty years to link all the murders together. By then surely there's a new trend of dudebro, my motif evolving with the times and baffling detectives everywhere, until all they can put me down as in history books is the Douchebag Killer. Victim shaming? Possibly, but is there any contest to the douchiness? Historians will debate the moral dilemmas and potential ramifications of my crime spree for years. Copycat killers who can't quite capture the force of my combined rage and apathy will be summarily caught. They'll try to pin all of my murders on them, but suddenly there's another body. How can people still be dying if the killer's been caught, Scully? I don't know, Mulder, there must be an accomplice! Or we don't have the original! The police continue frantically searching, but there's nothing to be found. I am everywhere and nowhere. I am everyone and no one. And it all starts with you. Congratufuckinglations.  
TG: im  
TG: i want to answer this but i cant even measure up this is just poetry  
CG: Dear NSA guy who just read that, I'm fucking joking.  
CG: I pass out when people bleed in front of me it's kind of an issue.  
TG: youre so lucky my sense of humor is really fucked up because i think this is significantly worse than your first introduction  
TG: you and i are going to get along just fine  
TG: since we already got the glaring obvious out of the way in the first intro lets talk actual roommate things  
CG: If you put empty milk cartons back in the fridge instead of throwing them out you make my hit list.  
CG: Again.  
TG: oh so you dont keep weaponry in the fridge  
CG: What.  
TG: good that was gonna be my thing  
TG: keep swords knives and guns out of the fridge it is not a holding rack  
CG: Is this a meme I'm missing?  
TG: tragically no this is my actual life  
TG: im pretty sure its a texas thing  
CG: Remind me that when I do my serial killing I need to skip Texas.  
TG: every time i remember im from texas i fear myself a little more  
TG: please remember to do your laundry because im gonna forget to do mine until i have no clothes that pass the sniff test and one of us needs to have some sense of personal hygiene  
CG: I'm not doing your laundry for you.  
TG: i didnt ask you to  
CG: No. You need to do your laundry or I'm going to end up doing it for you and I don't want to do your laundry for you.  
TG: oh in that case  
TG: im just never going to worry about laundry ever thanks for the tip  
CG: Damn it.  
CG: Warn me if you're going to get laid.  
CG: NO SEX ON MY BED.  
TG: why would i have sex on your bed  
CG: I don't know but it seemed like an important "NO" to get right out in the open now.  
TG: duly noted  
TG: only ever have sex on karkats bed and literally nowhere else  
CG: :c  
TG: what dont do that  
CG: :C  
TG: dont make sad smileys at me thats worse than ire on account of being cute stop that  
CG: :'C  
TG: BYE  
TG: listen it was nice talking to not-baked you and aside from being fucking weird you sound like a pretty alright dude so thats a pleasant surprise  
TG: i gotta hit the hay though im breaking the unspoken law of teens everywhere and trying to keep a solid crash-before-midnight sleep schedule  
TG: i miss a lot of overnight memes this way but i gotta make sacrifices you know  
TG: ill come up with an actual list of important shit to know and message it to you  
CG: Okay. I will too.  
TG: stay gold ponyboy  
TG: nightmare of my dreams  
CG: FUCKING BYE.  
\--turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] on 7/22/2014 at 11:07 PM--


	2. Embarrassing Fathers: Criminal Record Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> karkat and dave meet irl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this au spiraled out of control in my head and i'll be real this is probably going to end up more than five chapters  
> im sorry

Your name is Dave Strider, and you have never been more excited to be out of your home state. This exhilaration beats when you met your best friend for the first time, when you and your sister spent two weeks irritating people in New York City, and even that one time you met Ben Stiller and got to tell him you were now the proud owner of the Starsky and Hutch shades. Because this time you're "flying the nest" as an adult, and also don't have to put up with either of your parents. Praiiiise Jesus. (Rebuke the devil.)

Each little suite in your hall has two bedrooms with two bunk beds each and a shared kitchenette. Karkat's already been here and claimed the room with bright red marker on the whiteboard yelling "KARKAT AND DAVE'S ROOM, ENTER ON PAIN OF DEATH UNLESS YOU'RE THE BUTT IN SHADES YOURSELF". The other room's door is open, and inside you can see another Asian guy pointedly ignoring your presence in favor of his laptop screen.

You knock on your own door and give Karkat a three-second chance to shriek that he's indecent or needs a minute. In the answering silence, you open up and step inside.

Huh. The room is empty, but Karkat's already claimed the bottom bunk and begun neatly unpacking his clothes. You figure he probably went to explore campus or get something to eat, so you hoist your bundles onto the top bunk. You don't have much in the way of sentimental bullshit from home, and you tried to keep your packing light, so you shove one of your suitcases underneath the bunks and the other at the foot of your mattress.

Karkat, meanwhile, has decked his bed out in his own blankets and pillows, and given a small crab plushie the place of honor at the head of the bed. Cute. You make a mental note to tease him about it later.

You're raiding the kitchenette to see what kind of sweet storage space you guys have when you hear him enter. The door swings inward, and his voice assails your ears, just as loud as it has been over your few Skype chats.

" - _no es mi culpa, el mapa no tiene sentido_ \- oh, Dave finally dragged his ass in. Hey Dave."

You raise a hand in greeting, still looking into the refrigerator. "What are the plastic drawers at the bottom of the fridge actually for? Like I know you're not supposed to store ammo in them but I never understood why you'd need special closed-off spots in the middle of an already closed-off storage unit, like are your vegetables going to come to life and -- oh," you break off as you finally turn around. "Hi, Karkat's dad."

"You put fruit and vegetables and meat in them to keep them fresh," Karkat helpfully informs you.

"Huh. You learn something new every day. I think I prefer the idea that fruits are all sentient and unless you put them in special confinements, they'll escape and wreak havoc on the general public. We're just trying to keep the upper hand on our true plant overlords." You shut the fridge and hold your hand out to Karkat's dad. "I'm Dave. Is it Mr. Vantas, or...?"

"Silas," he says, shaking your hand. "Are your parents around?"

"Nah, I got the parental orientation requirement handwaved. Mom's got my sister's orientation in New York," you say, and leave the explanation at that. You don't miss the way Karkat's eyes narrow, but he doesn't say anything and his dad is too polite to press.

"Karkat and I were going to get some lunch before we got hopelessly turned around," Silas says, covering the brief beat of awkwardness. "Would you like to join us?"

"Oh. Uh, thanks, but I think I'm gonna take a little while to unpack first. Plus I'm trying to limit my sun exposure. I may be a true Texan at heart but my skin basically bubbles and peels off if I'm out for too long. I'm actually a vampire. Albinism is just a cover to explain away the pale skin, red eyes and aversion to light. You thought your biggest problem was going to be leaving your kid in the hands of a guy with an obnoxious Southern accent but it turns out I'm going to use him as a juicebox ha ha that was a fucked up thing to say oh my god I'm so sorry I ramble when I get nervous."

"Dave," Karkat says, with an almost unbelievable amount of patience. "Chill the hell out."

Karkat's dad does not comment on the fucked up direction your metaphor took, because he is a blessing to this world. "Maybe dinner, then," he says. "Open invitation, no obligation."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll see if I'm up for it."

Karkat and his dad vanish into the room to seek out a different campus map and then head off again, leaving you alone. Well, mostly.

"I didn't know a five minute conversation could be that huge a train wreck," the guy in the other room calls. "I'm Sollux. My humble thanks for already cementing yourself as the biggest basketcase in the suite. Takes a lot of pressure off."

"I'm sorry to have knocked you out of the competition so early. I'm sure there's time for you to make a comeback," you say, and retire to start unpacking.

~0~

"Sorry about that," Karkat says two hours later.

You're both standing in the room while you try to decide how long your 'unpacking' excuse can last, considering you've already hung all your clothes up and refolded your socks three times. Karkat's folding his own clothes into neat stacks, smoothing down the creases with his fingertips.

"Sorry about what?"

"That wasn't like, some threatening get-to-know-the-roommate thing," he says. "He just gets way enthusiastic and then forgets he's an embarrassing dad. Which makes him more embarrassing."

"No, no," you say. "I know. But sun exposure, man."

"Are you sure, because you looked like a deer caught in headlights, and that's a really tough expression to successfully pull off when you have shades obscuring half of your face."

"Positive."

"Look, okay. Whatever. Just. You don't have to come to dinner, he's just going to do more embarrassing dad things."

"Does he hate me now?" you blurt.

"What?" Karkat puts the shirt in his hands down, blinking at you. "No?"

"I am really, really bad at getting along with people's parents."

"Dave. Chill the hell out. The guy raised _me_ , do you really think he's going to be that put off by a little rambling? You're funny and you don't misgender me. As far as he's concerned, he hasn't seen anything he doesn't like yet."

"He has really low standards, then."

"Yeah, well, judgment standards for my company have dropped considerably over the years."

"Is it really that surprising that I don't misgender you, though? I mean, he doesn't -- did you not tell him I'm trans?"

Karkat shrugs and busies himself fitting the stacks of his clothes into the small shelves in the closet. "Didn't know if you'd want me to."

"Oh. Uh, I don't mind if you tell him. I mean, if it's gonna put your parents' minds at ease then go for it." You pull out your phone to busy your own hands. No unread texts, so you open a mindless word game instead. "It ain't some huge secret like, you're spilling my civilian identity to the papers and it's going to compromise my superhero self. I just prefer being private about that shit to people it doesn't concern but I think I can let your parents into the Inner Circle."

"Okay, cool," he says. "Speaking of parents and inner circles, is it okay if I ask...? Or do you not want to...?"

"I think it is best for literally everybody involved in this clusterfuck if my bro isn't here for orientation," you say with a shrug. "Beyond that, yeah, I don't want to talk about it."

"No worries."

Now that he's finished moving his clothes, Karkat lays down on the bottom bunk and pulls out his own phone. You hoist yourself onto your own mattress and the two of you lay in companionable silence for the better part of ten minutes.

"I'll come to dinner," you say eventually. "Just know that I'm going to be more embarrassing than your dad and walk away full of regret."

~0~

Your name is Karkat Vantas and your new roommate is so fucking awful at talking to middle-aged adults that you have to close your eyes a few times over the course of dinner and praise any listening god that your father is a man of tolerance and compassion.

Dave does not appear to have an off switch, and instead punctuates his anxious chatter with little footnotes of _no, oh my god, I know how much I'm talking and I can feel myself being annoying and I am so fucking sorry_ and _I'm not actually a vampire, I don't know if that was a thing you were worried about, I mean I could be but blood is super gross and not nutritional at all and I like apple juice better, are there fruit juice vampires?_

You're pretty sure your dad views him more like a lost puppy than anything else, and insists on paying for Dave's subway sandwich even though you know the amount of money Dave has at his disposal probably beats what both of your parents will make in an entire year. The money thing is a quieter anxiety, though, one you're definitely not going to bring up to him. You tried not to snoop too hard, but he has an expensive-ass camera and most of the clothes he hung up in the closet looked designer, and you hope he's left high school bullshit notions of which clothing brands are cool behind.

When you settle down on the green beside the main administrative offices, Dave bites into his food and then continues mumbling with his mouth full. It occurs to you that he may literally just be too oblivious to notice that you're poor, which would be another unbelievable stroke of luck.

"Dave," you say, with as much gentleness as you can manage. "Shh. Shhhhhh. Shhhhhhhhhhhhh."

"Sorry," he says around a mouthful of sandwich.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

"So, Texas," your dad says.

"Mmm." Dave at least has the decency to keep his mouth closed, chewing and swallowing.

"I got arrested in Texas once."

"Oh no," you say.

"Pardon?" Dave asks at the same time.

"Yeah, my dad is a hardened and violent criminal, fear him. The longest rap sheet of all time." You bury your face in your hands. "Guess what he was arrested for."

"Hmm. Jaywalking?"

"Close."

"Public urination?"

"How is that close to jaywalking?"

"It's another stupid thing to get arrested for?"

"Good guesses! I got arrested for disturbing the peace," your dad says, looking altogether too pleased with himself.

You reach deep into your soul and let loose the most exaggerated groan you can muster. "He doesn't know how not to get arrested at protest rallies? He met my mom because she helped set up the fundraiser to post his bail at one point, and this is a story he insists on telling all of my friends, because he thinks it's cute and has no concept of why talking about his 'criminal record' is embarrassing on a dozen different abstract levels. Except at this point I think he knows exactly how embarrassing it is and just likes torturing me, so this is me stealing his thunder and taking the wind out of his cutesy story sails."

Dave grins and takes another bite of his sandwich. "Okay," he says, forgetting once again to swallow before he speaks, "but meeting your wife because she posts your bail is pretty fucking cute, dude."

" _Thank_ you," your dad says.

"Speaking of your mom, any particular reason she couldn't make it?"

You fluster, but your dad doesn't. "Karkat's younger brother is fifteen and we weren't comfortable leaving him alone for three days," he says, which is at least more tactful than admitting your parents can't both afford to take the time off work.

"Ah," Dave says. "The hellspawn brother."

You flush. "I never called him hellspawn!"

"No, no, I think your actual wording was even less courteous."

"Stop trying to get me in trouble, you horse's ass!"

"Karkat, give your brother room to learn and grow," your dad says mildly. "Dave, don't be a tattletale."

"I wasn't tattling! If I was tattling I would have been all, 'Silas, Karkat called his brother a demon who scorched the earth as he'" --

You leave skid marks in the grass in your haste to bowl him over and clap a hand over his mouth. Less than a second after you do, you realize that this is the first actual physical contact you've had with him, and that you don't even know if he's cool with being touched, and that you are the real horse's ass here, but you relax when Dave just laughs underneath you.

You remove your hand from his mouth veeeery slowly. "Shhhhh," you say again. "Shhhh. You need my favor more than my dad's. Shhhhhhhhhhhhh."

He laughs again as he sits up, softer this time, and something in your stomach twinges. The ghost of your fourth-grade self names it _butterflies_ for you, the same swooping roller coaster feeling you used to get whenever anyone pretty made eye contact with you, and your heart sinks.

Oh no.

"We should go back to the dorm soon," you say. "I'm getting eaten alive by bugs."

"You just want to get me out of your dad's hair so you stay out of trouble."

"You are a master of body language." You get to your feet and offer a hand to him. "Dad, I'm going to spend the night in the dorm. Come by in the morning?"

You think you've effectively shaken off the brief almost-crush feelings now that you're no longer sprawled on top of Dave, but the butterflies return full force as soon as he wraps his fingers around yours to haul himself up. Ohhh no. Fuck your life. Fuck it up the ass with a rusty fork. Why this.

"Text me if you need anything," your dad says.

"Will do!" you call, and sprint ahead of Dave on the way back in the hopes that he won't notice your flush.


	3. Video Games: Agonizing Character Customization Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dave tries to get karkat to play an MMO with questionable results

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok there's! some brief allusions to canonical abuse and internalized misogyny/transphobia in this chapter + one misogynistic slur but nothing graphic, it's mostly fluff as usual
> 
> the game they're playing is tera rising/tera online because that's the only MMO i'm intimately familiar with

“Okay, let me get this straight,” you say. “You’ve never played an MMO.”

Karkat bristles. “I’ve played the occasional video game! I used to play all the time when I was younger but then I got distracted by things like actually trying to do well in school. I know, fucking shocking. Studying is for chumps and you can’t believe that someone as cool as me didn’t manage to get a 3.89 GPA through sheer force of apathetic coattail riding.”

“You got a 3.89 GPA?”

“I worked my fucking ass off for it so I get to brag about the fruits of my labors a little, okay? Yes. It’s impressive, and I am a marvel to behold.”

“Huh. Nice.” 

You hang over the edge of the bunk bed by your waist, your hair sticking up and your shades threatening to drop off your face. Instead of letting them clatter the remaining few feet to the ground, you pull them off and give Karkat a wide-eyed stare. He scowls back.

“You still haven’t played an MMO, though.”

“I have the horrible, sinking feeling that I know where this is going.”

“Karkat,” you say. “We need to play an MMO together. Right now.”

“Why do I always have to be right.”

“It’s a curse.” You slither the rest of the way down, bracing your arms against the floor and melting into a puddle of Dave. Then you sit up and duck onto Karkat’s mattress beside him. “Right now, Karkat. _Right now._ ”

“It’s been a week and I already know you’re not going to let this go until I do it.”

“Stubbornness is one of the most charming facets of my personality. Right now. Right now.”

“For all you know, I was planning on studying and you’re peer pressuring me into not doing my very best in school.”

“First of all, we’ve barely had any classes yet and you don’t have to kiss ass so hard. Second of all, is that why you have the ‘Romantic Comedies’ section of Netflix open?”

He slams his laptop shut and hugs it to his chest, glaring at you with all the force of a dude who’s daring you to say something about his interests. You’re going to – the “what you didn’t tell me you were actually a girl” mockery is on the tip of your tongue already, skirting the edge between harmless teasing and real nastiness – when you remember to bite down, your mouth twisting like you swallowed a lemon. The shift in facial expression is apparently a worse reaction, though, because Karkat’s defiance shifts into something warier.

“I fucking like romantic movies, okay, you can look at them from a sociological point of view too about how human interaction works and how humans sustain themselves and it’s not a goddamn crime to be in touch with your feelings, I will fucking fight you.”

“No, I, fuck. Sorry.” You rub your eyes and put your shades back on. “I was gonna say something mean but then I realized I don’t have to be an asshole.”

“Your self-restraint is impeccable,” he says, but what he doesn’t realize is that it actually kind of _is_.

You sit on your hands and remind yourself that not every social interaction is a battle with an offense and a defense, and that trying to put someone on the defensive is a projection tactic that makes you an asshole, and that Karkat has yet to give you cause to be an asshole, shouty and rancorous as he may be. The traitor part of your mind that speaks in your bro’s voice tells you that when he does give you cause to fight it’ll be too late – that you’ll be on the defensive then, you’ll never regain the upper hand and you should assert yourself as the Tough Guy now and then he’ll never be able to hurt you. But you at least have enough self-awareness to recognize that’s Not A Healthy Mindset ™. Hah. As if that makes everything okay.

“Dave?” Karkat says after another moment of silent warring. “You okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, shit, I’m good.” You scrub a hand over your face and put the inner monologue out of your head for now, since you can angst about your inbred darkness later. “Fuck, what were we talking about?”

“MMOs…? You wanted me to play one?”

“Right! Right, MMOs. Basically you make a jacked up fantasy character and run around doing quests and saving shit with them, and also kicking other players’ asses depending on the server rules and how big an asshole you want to be, which sometimes you can do through ganking and sometimes through actual fair duels, but let’s be real, ganking is a hell of a lot more fun because who wants to give people a fair shot, am I right?”

 

“Before you go into any more depth about the so-called merits of various forms of player slaughtering” –

“It’s called PVP, player versus player” –

“What is the actual point? Like, what is the goal of the game?”

That... is an excellent question. “Uh. To be a jacked up fantasy character and the hero of the fantasy world? Or to get all the in-game achievements and be server famous and get external validation from a bunch of sweatmonkey dudebros? If they hate you, you have won.”

“Sounds boring, dude.”

“No no no, you gotta embrace your inner fantasy slaughtering self.”

“Are you server famous?”

“Nah. Rose and her girlfriend are server famous. I just tag along on raids and pray I can ride on their point stealing coattails.”

“So what you’re saying here is that you’re terrible at these video games, but you keep playing them.”

“It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.”

He swats your side. “I will make one character. One. And play for an hour, at most.”

“Hmm. Okay, that is a fair deal.” You flop back, doing your best to be nonchalant, and hit your head on the wall. Ow. “So what if I put on a romcom with my computer while you made your character?” you add, rubbing at your skull. “Would that entice you to play longer?”

“The longer there’s a movie on in the background for me to listen to, the longer my attention span will be.”

“Hmm. So, you play a video game and I watch a romcom. That’s what I call diplomatic compromise.”

“Aside from the fact that you’re going to pay zero attention to the movie and breathe down my neck instead, yeah.”

~0~

“Why the hell are all of these features so _white_?”

“It is a tragedy of video game design.”

“Why are all of the women wearing metal bikinis? Like okay, sure, that chain mail thong covering your crotch and literally nothing else is going to be practical when you get shot or stabbed in a major artery. But at least we know the precious genitalia remains intact - what?"

"You said genitalia."

"You are actually five years old."

You yawn and settle down, your laptop playing _Hitch_ on the floor. As Karkat predicted, however, you aren’t paying any attention to the movie, instead pillowing your head on his shoulder and watching his screen. He brings his free hand up to pet your hair, humming.

“Keep ranting,” you say. “I’m enjoying it.”

Karkat immediately launches back into his tirade like he was never interrupted. “The top part of the bikini isn’t even well fitted! Even if you’re going to make the argument that these massive, physics-defying boobs need to be protected before things like ribcages and sternums and major organs, why in the name of fuck would you design them this way? Why is there so much underboob poking out?! There’s no fucking support! The second you so much as walk, let alone try to fight, the whole thing is just going to fall right off, why bother putting it on in the first place? Not to mention how the boobs are staying up despite how badly supported the bikinis are? How is that happening? Where is gravity?”

“They’re magic boobs. Enhanced with the power of tata from within.”

“That’s ridiculous. Has anyone ever wondered whether you’d take less damage if you used practical armor? None of the armorsmiths in this game ever stopped to think, wow, hey, we’re sending our heroes off to fight massive legendary monsters and gods, it sure would be a shame if they got stabbed through the heart because their armor only barely covered their nipples!”

“The armorsmiths are actually the video game designers.”

“Did the video game designers ever stop to think wow, hey, we’re sending our heroes off to fight legendary monsters and gods, it sure would be a shame if they got stabbed through the heart because their armor only barely covered their nipples?”

“Most of their money comes from selling female costumes since the game is free to play. I’m told you can get a lot of really cute ones.”

“So they make you run around naked and pay to cover up?” Karkat throws an arm over his face, heaving a dramatic sigh, which you’ve gathered by now is kind of his thing. “Capitalism is inhumane and must be destroyed.”

“You sure are finding a lot to whine about for a guy who hasn’t even decided what class to play. You have to get off the character selection page before you can overhaul the in-game economy and instate communism.”

Karkat grumbles and settles on playing an elf priest – “If I can’t heal myself I am going to die a thousand fucking times over” – and then spends an exorbitant amount of time creating his character. Your own penchant for character creation is to hit the randomizer a few times and then go, while Karkat spends thirty seconds agonizing over whether the eye width looks better one more pixel inward or outward.

“My main on this server is named Earwax,” you say, closing your eyes. “Promise you anything looks good next to him.”

“Shh.” Karkat continues petting your hair, now debating over how big to make the tip of the nose. “What is the point of playing the game if my jacked up fantasy character is not perfect?”

“I see what you are saying here, but consider: having a character named Earwax who looks like ass, and all the NPCs are constantly like, ‘Oh, Earwax! Holy savior of our realm! Please help us on this quest!’”

“If I am going to do this whole wish fulfillment fantasy thing, it’s going to be without a smidgen of irony. I take these things very seriously, Dave.” He goes back to the facial structure and starts tweaking the cheekbones for the third time.

“I have created a monster.”

The adventure does not improve from there. When Karkat is finally satisfied with his character, forty-five minutes into the movie, he begins playing. Past the first cutscene, your helpful guide devolves into:

“Karkat, you have to talk to the guy with the exclamation point above his head.”

“Why the fuck would I do that, I don’t want to talk to him, I want to go places! How the shit do I do quests?”

“Karkat. You have to get your first quest from the guy with the exclamation point above his head. That’s why he has the exclamation point above his head.”

“BUT I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO HIM, I WANT TO RUN AROUND, HEY WHAT’S UP HERE” –

“DON’T GO DOWN THERE THOSE ARE LEVEL SIX MONSTERS” –

“WHAT THE SHIT! WHAT WAS THAT THING! I DIED, DAVE. I JUST DIED.”

At which point Sollux pokes his head into the dorm to ask who’s being murdered and if he needs to help hide a body.

Karkat finally gives in and talks to the dude with the exclamation point over his head, following the Very Well Outlined map to complete his quests, only to have another tantrum when he can’t figure out how to equip his skills. (“Press K.” “I AM PRESSING K!” “Okay, now drag those icons to the key you want to use the skill.” “IT’S NOT DRAGGING, DAVE, IT’S NOT DRAGGING.” “Do you want me to” – “NO! I’VE GOT THIS! WHY WON’T IT DRAG?!”)

You aren’t sure when you fall asleep, though you know it’s not long after the next tantrum (teaching Karkat how to switch out his gear). When you wake again, your head remains pillowed on Karkat’s shoulder, and you’ve been drooling on his shirt. You shift, worried you’ve been out for a long time, but the bedroom lights are still on and Karkat’s still awake. He responds to the movement with a dry “Welcome back.”

“How long was I…”

“I dunno, maybe an hour and a half? After you started rudely snoring I pulled up a game guide and now I think I know the basics and also I’m level eleven. I think I’d be higher level but when you could ride the pegasus between cities I just started doing that over and over and now I have no money left and a lot of motion sickness.”

“Oh my god.”

“You can go back to sleep if you want, you know. Aside from the hideous puddle of drool and the fact that I’ll have to burn this shirt, I don’t mind.”

“That’s pretty gay.”

“I’m pretty gay.”

You roll off the bed and turn the lights off, navigating your way back across the room by the bluish light of Karkat’s computer. Your own is hibernating where you left it on the floor, tragically drained of battery after the Netflix escapades. Rather than climb onto the top bunk, though, you take him up on his offer and climb back in beside him.

“Are you really?”

“Nah, I’m pan. You’re not going to have a straight boy tantrum?” Karkat says, his lips quirking upward.

“Nah.” You wriggle under his sheets and settle down as he focuses back on his computer screen, taking a deep breath. “I’m pretty gay too,” you tell him, and he doesn’t call you a pussy for snuggling up to him, and he doesn’t ask if you’re _sure_ you aren’t a straight girl playing dress up, and he lets you hook an arm around his waist and listen to the sound of his breathing, and you sleep better than you have in years.


End file.
